She Didn't Mind Draco Malfoy Oneshot
by Ethereal Synchronicity
Summary: A short oneshot I wrote for a request. It's a love-hate sorta thing. Rated T to be safe with like, one word. I'm not really sure about ratings. Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this oneshot except for the plot and actual writing. The OC is not mine, and the Canon characters belong to the lovely Jo Rowling.


Draco and Heather stood in the corridor, both glaring with their arms crossed. Neither was going to back down, neither was going to make the first move in the offensive. The air between them was so charged with hatred that the negative emotions were almost tangible. A few first years peeked out of a classroom down the hall, to afraid to move in or out.  
"I saw you with Potter." Draco stated. It was not a question. It was a challenge.  
"I saw you with Parkinson."  
"Why do you care?"  
"Who said I do?"  
Draco growled and took a step to the right. Heather took a step to the left so that she was in front of him again, challenging him.  
"Blood traitor."  
"Git."  
"Whore." Her punch landed on her cheek before either of them could fully register it had been thrown. No one called Heather Black a whore and got away with it. Especially not someone as loose as Malfoy. He scowled at her and took a step forward. She didn't move. If she stepped back, it would be a retreat, if she stepped forward, it would be an invitation.  
"Why won't you just admit that you want me, Black?" Heather smirked.  
"Because I don't." She turned and walked away to rejoin her Gryffindor friends who had wandered away during the argument.

Draco was late walking into the Great Hall that night. He didn't want to face his friends after being punched by a girl _again_, but he also didn't want her to think she'd won. He knew she wanted him, it was just a matter of getting her alone so she would admit it. He sat down at the Slytherin table and glared at her all through the evening meal.

"I think you have a fan." George said to Heather as she took a bite from her desert. She raised an eyebrow at him and he pointed towards the Slytherin table.  
"The ferret hasn't taken his eyes off you all night. What happened?" Heather glared at Draco and rolled her eyes, focusing on her food again.  
"I punched him." She said simply. George laughed and patted the girl on the back.  
"Oi, Hermione!" George called and the girl looked up.  
"Please don't yell, George, it's rude." George shrugged, but his grin didn't fall.  
"Looks like you started a trend." Hermione didn't respond.  
"Heather here punched Malfoy a good one."  
That night, Heather was a hot topic in the Gryffindor common room. Everyone wanted to congratulate her on her fight with Malfoy, even though it could hardly be called a fight. She didn't feel like they needed to be corrected.  
Despite all the attention, she felt oddly sick when she went to bed last night, like she'd done something horribly wrong. She tossed and turned until midnight, when she decided that she needed some air.

Heather walked out into the cool corridor, quietly apologizing to the fat lady's portrait for waking her. She breathed in the mildewy air and headed upstairs to the room of requirement. The entire castle seemed to be quiet, and even Filch was absent from his nightly wandering. All Heather could hear was her own footsteps echoing to infinite down the dark corridors. She felt oddly at peace as she walked through the eerily dark castle, but she felt much safer when she reached the RoR.

_I need a place to think._ The doors appeared and she walked into the room that had been created for her. There was a fireplace with a loveseat and two plush chairs in front of it, an entire wall of bookshelves, and a table with small snacks on it. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until Heather approached the couch.

"Draco?" He turned around slowly, the bruise on his face creating a dark contrast against his pale skin in the firelight. His expression was soft at first, as if questioning if she was real. Heather couldn't help but to watch as his lips gently parted to form a word.

"Heather?" She swallowed. His voice was pained, but soft. It was something she'd never heard before. All at once, Draco's expression grew cold and his face hardened.  
"What do you want, Black. Are you here to punch me again? Do you enjoy humiliating me again?" The spell was broken.  
"That was your fault, git." She growled at him, crossing her arms. Draco stood and approached her, his face revealing nothing of his intentions.  
His hand shot forward suddenly and Heather flinched. Draco buried his hand in the back of Heather's dark brown hair and pulled her towards him. Their lips connected and Heather felt herself melting into the kiss. She closed her eyes and slid her hands up into Draco's hair, tugging gently on the platinum blonde strands.  
Wait, this is Malfoy! She opened her eyes and glared at the boy, biting his lip roughly. Draco only growled and pulled the girl closer to him, glaring at her with a ferocity she hadn't seen before.  
"You're mine." He growled, his lips slamming on hers again.  
Strangely, she didn't mind that much.


End file.
